ChapterSeven
SKYE
Is he serious? Much as I’d hoped Seth would see I wasn’t interested and drive off, he’s keeping pace with me. I feel like an idiot walking along in the dark, a large tow truck shadowing my every move.
I try waving him away, but he ignores me, not driving off until I’m safely inside the bakery. As I’d done when getting up and dressed, I again switch to autopilot, turning on the ovens and getting everything ready for the team.
Usually I enjoy the solitude at this time of the day. No so today, with me greeting my team as though I haven’t seen them in weeks rather than just the day before.
This morning, their presence is welcome, stopping my thoughts as to what I’d done wrong last night from overwhelming me.
It isn’t until three o’clock that things slow enough for me to once again worry about what had happened to Pinkie Pie. I’d called Bristol’s Auto Repairs just after eight o’clock and arranged for them to tow Pinkie back to their shop.
Not even an hour had passed when they phoned back to say it wasn’t where I’d said it was. They’d even driven up and down the road, in case I’d made a mistake as to where I’d broken down. As if!
She must have been stolen, as I’d worried would happen. It’s either that, or Seth has her.
At this stage in proceedings, I’m actually hoping she’s been stolen. Sure, there’d be a bucket-load of paperwork with the police and my insurance company, but I’d rather deal with all that, than face Seth again.
It’s something I dwell on when walking home. It takes three blocks before I come to the realization that I’ll have to speak to Seth whether I like it or not. I can’t very well report Pinkie as stolen if he’s got her back at his place, although it would serve him right.
He’s just lucky I didn’t act on that this morning.
I’m still having nefarious thoughts when I round the corner of my street and come to a grinding halt. The first thing to catch my eye is Seth’s truck parked out front of my place.
The second is Pinkie Pie sitting in the driveway.
What the heck did he do to her!?
I knew he didn’t like my car, but to do this…
I’m walking again before I’m aware of having moved. Initially, I pretend Seth isn’t there, my whole focus on Pinkie. On reaching my driveway, I complete a circuit of my precious vehicle.
There isn’t a single panel that hasn’t been dinged or scraped. As if this wasn’t bad enough, the two front tires look to have exploded.
Aware that Seth has walked up behind me, I swing around. I’m so angry I’m not in my right mind.
“What on earth did you do? Take in a demolition derby on your way back here!?” I’m only aware I’m yelling when he takes a step back and holds his hands up.
“How on earth am I supposed to explain this to the insurance company?” I stomp up and down beside my car a couple times, before stopping back in front of him. “Didn’t you do enough damage last night?”
I stand and stare at him, rigid with anger, hands on my hips, waiting for a response. It’s not the one I’m expecting, not by a long shot.
SETH
I knew when I was recovering Pinkie Pie from the rocks that Skye wouldn’t be happy. In reality, the car is only fit to be totaled.
The last thing I expected was that she’d accuse me of inflicting all that damage. Even so, I’m still feeling guilty because I’d convinced her it would be safe leaving it there.
But, how the heck was I supposed to know the park brake was as suspect as everything else about that car? As I watch her storming back and forth, her eyes locked on mine, I come to the conclusion that I should have towed it to my shop.
No sooner has this crossed my mind, than I notice smoke seeping out from under the hood. Not bothering to explain what I’m up to, I turn and yank open the storage box on my truck.
On turning back, I’m armed with a fire extinguisher.
For all the good it does.
By the time I’ve opened the driver’s door and released the hood, there are flames shooting through any and all gaps. It’s this that stops me from lifting the hood so I can deal with the fire.
If I do that, I’ll be losing my eyebrows, for sure. It’s obviously something Skye hasn’t thought through with her continuing to yell at me to ‘put it out’. When something inside the engine explodes, it all becomes too much for me.
For all that my eyes are still open, the scene before me is half a world away. The Toyota is long gone, my damaged mind replacing it with the smoking remains of a Humvee. The other things that are as they were back on that fateful day are the crackle of flames, the smell of burning rubber, and the screaming.
I return from my hellish memories to find a fire truck on the scene. I’m sitting on the front porch of Skye’s home and she’s tucked in behind me, her arms wrapped tightly around my chest.
I place my hands over the top of hers to let her know she can let go, but she’s not having a bar of it. If anything, her arms tighten, her strength testament to a lot kneading in her past.
I twist in her grip and address myself to her over one shoulder. “Skye, you can let go.” And once she does, I’m out of here. Home to lick my wounds and give serious attention to that bottle of scotch I’d hidden from myself.
